The Golf Course as My Therapist's Couch: A Comedy of Errors (and the Occasional Triumph)

This golf season has been less about perfecting my swing and more about finding ease (or at least trying to).Turns out, the golf course is a fantastic place to observe the human comedy of threat and ease in action. It's like a live-action sitcom, with me as the hapless protagonist, constantly battling my own nervous system.

I've always been a decent golfer, but this year, I decided to turn the course into my personal laboratory for understanding the sneaky ways threat messes with our minds. And boy, have I learned a lot!

You see, golf has this uncanny ability to expose your inner turmoil. Golf only deals with truth. There's no hiding behind a poker face when you're about to shank a drive into the next county. It's like your anxieties are projected onto the ball, screaming "Fore!" at the top of their lungs.

I played in three tournaments this year, and my main goal wasn't about winning or losing (though, let's be honest, winning is way more interesting). It was about observing the hilarious dance between threat and ease, especially when that little voice in my head started whispering sweet nothings about victory.

In my first tournament, I was on fire! Birdies were dropping like flies, and I felt that elusive "flow" state. But as I got closer to the semi-finals, my inner saboteur decided to crash the party. Thoughts of the trophy, the accolades, and the inevitable post-tournament bragging rights started swirling in my head. My grip tightened, my knees knocked, and my swing turned into a chaotic interpretive dance. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

The club championship was a similar story. I was playing well, feeling confident, until the threat of winning decided to photobomb my mental game. My mind started planning the victory party, the newspaper headlines, and my future career as a golf influencer. And just like that, my swing went from smooth to "did I just hit a gopher?".

The final tournament was a team event, and the pressure was on. We were in the lead, but as we approached the final holes, I could see the tension mounting in my teammates. Their once-confident grins melted into expressions of worry,and their swings became more hesitant than a tightrope walker suddenly aware of the drop below. I tried to channel my inner zen master, reminding them to breathe and focus on the process, but the threat of victory was too strong. We stumbled, but luckily, our first-day lead saved us.

These experiences have taught me that the threat of winning can be just as paralyzing as the fear of losing. It's like our brains are wired to stay in our comfort zones, even if that means sabotaging our own success. The anxiety that arises from the possibility of success can be just as debilitating as the fear of failure. It's our nervous system's way of trying to maintain equilibrium, even if that means pulling us back from the unfamiliar territory of triumph.

This season has been a masterclass in recognizing and navigating the threat response. I've learned to observe the subtle signs of tension, to allow my emotions to flow without judgment, and to return to a state of calm and presence, even in the midst of competition. It's not about denying the thrill of victory or the sting of defeat. It's about recognizing that both are part of the dance, the natural ebb and flow of life. By embracing this dance, by learning to move with the rhythm of threat and ease, we can unlock a deeper level of joy and fulfillment, both on and off the golf course